


Sweet Dream or Beautiful Nightmare

by standoutme



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/standoutme/pseuds/standoutme
Summary: When Sirius dies as a consequence of his mother's abuse, James finds unexpected comfort in Regulus, who's dealing with the same guilt and grief. The two boys grow closer and find that they have more in common than the lost brother they both mourn, and find something quite beautiful in the midst of the darkness surrounding them.But each night, James has a recurring dream - in which the past day plays out again, but Sirius... Sirius never died. No, he showed up bloodied and beaten on the Potter family's lawn that night, and James... James never got to know Regulus. But he remembers, and for some reason he has a lingering suspicion that Regulus does, too.
Relationships: Regulus Black/James Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	1. Blood

James Potter was hanging on by a thread. A thread so thin and worn, it had to have been grinding against the edge of a brick wall for a long time. Twenty-four hours, to be exact. Twenty-four long hours, for the duration of which he hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep. He couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes, because whenever he did a terrible image crossed his mind; one he couldn’t seem to shake. It was the image of a cold, pale boy, lying still and alone in bloodied sheets; a mere shadow of the vivid, sarcastic prat he used to be. 

Sirius Black was dead. At sixteen years old, James’ best friend had bled out in his own bedroom, at the hands of his own mother. A mother who was probably in Azkaban by now. She deserved worse; James found himself thinking. She deserved worse than Azkaban. If only there was a way to give that monster _feelings_. If only she could feel, truly, what she had done. If she could grieve, like he did, if she could feel the guilt, like he did. That was what she deserved. And yet, she was shipped off to Azkaban, and James, James was left with nothing but guilt and grief. 

“You don’t have to go if you’re not ready, darling. You can always stay here longer.” James was going back to Hogwarts in the morning, and his own mother was an angel. He found himself feeling guilty about that, too. Why had he been given two amazing parents, and Sirius none? If only he could’ve switched places with him, before it was too late. If only he had done something, before it was too late. The painful truth was that he had _known_. They all had. Sirius had been covered in scars that he hid underneath layers of clothing. It had taken months before he was comfortable with as much as a hug, not to mention the teasing hair ruffle. James had known, and he would never stop hating himself for not doing anything. For not saving Sirius before it was too late.

“I need to go back, mum. It’ll be… good, to see the lads,” he managed, swallowing down on the thick lump in his throat. It wouldn’t be good in the least, he knew that, it would be terrible. But they needed him. Peter and Remus would need him now, and he couldn’t selfishly isolate himself with his perfect parents and ignore the remainder of his second family. Those two boys had been through enough already, they didn’t deserve this. Especially Remus, he couldn’t… James needed to be strong now. For them. 

“Well, you can always change your mind, alright? If you want to come home, just owl me.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Now, get some sleep.”

The boy snorted in response as his mother left the bedroom, convinced he wouldn’t be getting any sleep this night either. But this time, as he closed his eyes, he was too tired to picture Sirius dying, all alone. This time, he fell asleep instantly, and in the same moment that he closed his eyes and drifted off, his hazel eyes opened up somewhere else. 

\---

It was the familiar pop of apparition that woke James up and had him rush to the bedroom window. Despite the fact that it was still dark out, he could make out a figure on the lawn, with awfully familiar dark locks.

As the boy rushed down the stairs, his legs could barely keep up, and the noise of excited, stomping feet on stairs echoed throughout the small house. He shoved the front door open and ran out on the lawn in his pyjamas.

“PADFOOT!” he exclaimed in tears, throwing his arms around the neck of the bloodied boy on the lawn.

“You’re alive!” he cried, holding on to his friend, his brother, for dear life.

“Barely,” Sirius coughed darkly, wincing in pain as he did so.

“MUUM!” James yelled, upon the realization that his best friend had just coughed up blood, terrified that this was it; that he was going to lose his best friend again. That Sirius was going to bleed out right there on the lawn, rather than in his bed at Grimmauld Place.

“Step back, James,” Euphemia ordered as she rushed out onto the lawn, Fleamont close behind.

“Sirius, dear, we need to get you to the hospital, alright?” the elderly woman doted, as she fell down onto her knees next to the battered boy.

“No hospital,” Sirius managed, coughing again, splattering blood onto Euphemia’s white nightgown. “Please.”

“Fine,” she muttered in response, ordering her husband to help her levitate the boy into the living room. Thankfully, the retired witch had once worked at St. Mungos, before her long career at the Ministry of Magic. She managed to put him back together, somehow, eventually leaving one bruised boy and one concerned best friend in the living room for the remainder of the night. While Sirius slept uneasily, James didn’t. He sat by his friend’s side, hazel eyes set firmly on the blankets slowly moving along with Sirius’ breaths.

It had been a nightmare, the boy told himself. He hadn’t lost Sirius – today. He had dreamed of losing him, and he would live in constant fear because of it. Sirius had made it here, to safety, in time. He was alive. Just barely, but still, alive. And that was all that mattered, wasn’t it?

“Why were you surprised?” Sirius managed, at the end of the day, still lounged on that same sofa, covered in bandages and blankets.

“What?”

“You were surprised I was alive.”

“Oh, that… it was just a nightmare,” James explained, having nearly convinced himself of it. Sirius didn’t need to say it. It was odd. James had dreamed of Sirius dying by his mother’s hand and woken up to find it minutes away from coming true. Had it been a warning? A premonition? Legilimency?

“James, it’s time for bed now. I know you’re concerned but you need to get some sleep before school starts tomorrow. I’ll keep an eye on Sirius,” Euphemia ordered with a warm smile on her lips, and he couldn’t bring himself to be irritated with his mum, because something felt _off_. As he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom he could feel the anxiety build up like nausea in his chest, and a thought he didn’t dare think brushed past him; _what if this was the dream?_


	2. September 1st

The sun stubbornly shone that September morning, forcing James Potter to wake up for the first day of his sixth year at Hogwarts. The boy pressed the pillow over his face, not quite ready to wake up, when a heart-stopping realization hit him. _It had been a dream._ It couldn’t have been, it couldn’t possibly be… 

Within seconds James was on his feet, rushing down the stairs loudly and unapologetically, only to find an empty sofa without a trace of his best friend. His best friend who wasn’t even barely alive. _Please let me fall back asleep_ , he thought, tears welling over in the corners of his eyes as he dragged his feet back up the stairs and buried himself under the covers in his bed, stubbornly pressing his eyelids together. _Fall asleep you idiot_ , he pleaded with himself, desperately, as there was nothing in this world he wanted as much as just one more grin from his _brother_. And he tried, forcefully, to drift back off to sleep, even though he knew that the dream was long gone by now, and Sirius along with it.

“James, darling?” Euphemia’s voice was far too sweet and warm for such a cold, dark morning.

“Go away,” he muttered in response, pulling the covers tighter around him, tears staining them. If only he could fall back asleep, he could see Sirius again.

“Do you want to stay here? You don’t have to go, dear.” 

“Fuck’s sake, I said go away didn’t I?!” the boy snapped, violently kicking the covers off and throwing himself out of bed the second time that morning.

“Well I’m up, are you happy now?!” he hissed at his mother, before rushing past her.

“James, I didn’t…”

The bathroom door slammed shut loudly, and cut off the woman mid-sentence. He didn’t want to hear it. It was misdirected, sure, but he was furious. In that moment, this morning, it was his mother who had taken Sirius away from him. If only she hadn’t tried to wake him up, then maybe he would’ve been able to fall back asleep; maybe he would’ve been able to see Sirius again. Bitterly, he turned on the faucet, hot water burning his skin and mixing in with tears that seemed to burn even more.

When he searched the Hogwarts Express for his friends a few hours later, James met a pair of too familiar grey eyes. Reddened, sad grey eyes. It took him a moment to realize that familiar grey eyes weren’t reason enough to get excited, that Sirius wasn’t there. That Sirius was still gone, and never coming back. That this boy had a Slytherin tie around his neck, and not a single bruise on his body.

“You,” James hissed in disgust, thoughtlessly, pulling his wand on the younger boy, backing him into a corner. “You let them do this. You were there, you could’ve…” he growled, unable to find the words. It was easier, to fill himself with anger rather than grief, to blame someone else rather than himself.

“He was protecting me,” Regulus sobbed in response, tears falling down a broken face that had always seemed emotionless to James, and his anger instantly fell away. “It should’ve been me,” the younger continued with a weak voice, as James lowered his wand and struggled for air in the hopelessness that came with the released anger.

“Don’t,” James managed, nothing short of hating himself for making Regulus cry, for making him believe it was his fault. Sirius would’ve hated him for that, too, so it was only fair he did so himself. Before he knew it, the sobbing boy was in his arms, and James found himself in tears again, holding on for dear life to the younger Black-boy. To the person who reminded him most of Sirius. To the poor boy who seemed to blame himself as much as James did. “It’s not your fault, Reggie. He… he would’ve never forgiven himself… if anything happened to you,” he swallowed, trying to control his breathing, trying to stop himself from breaking apart there, in the middle of the train.

“I don’t know if I will either,” Regulus mumbled, almost inaudibly, into James’ shoulder before inhaling deeply and taking a step back into the small space left between James and the wall. James’ swallowed hard, taking a step back as well, providing more space for the younger boy.

“I should’ve never… It wasn’t your fault, Regulus,” he mumbled in an attempt to collect himself before any _other_ Slytherins caught him crying on the train and cornering their golden boy.

“It’s none of your concern, Potter. Let it go,” Regulus replied, emotionless mask back in place.

“Right. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m… here.”

“You too, Potter.”

James could’ve sworn he’d been offered a weak smile before the Slytherin quickly retreated into a compartment, leaving a lingering silence behind. It didn’t take long for James to find Remus and Peter, sitting across from each other silently, in an otherwise empty compartment. There was no need for words with them. Remus got to his feet first, and with just one look, they were both in tears, holding on to each other for dear life. James suspected that if he only held on tight enough, maybe he could prevent his friend from falling apart – but in reality, it was probably too late for that. As they let go, and Remus sat back down, James’ eyes met the swollen, red eyes of Peter. “Pete,” he cried silently, before pulling the shorter boy into a hug, successfully driving the shorter boy to tears, not managing to keep a straight face himself either. 

Eventually, all three boys were sitting down, in silence again, faces reddened. The atmosphere in the compartment was heavy, cold, and far too silent. If Sirius had only been there, it wouldn’t have been silent or still for more than five seconds. If Sirius had been there, they would be noses deep into a prank planning workshop by now. But Sirius wasn’t there, and that fact left a question hanging in the air; _would they ever be the same again?_

Later that evening, James went to bed in a seemingly empty dorm. Remus and Peter were still there, and yet, it was still empty. Emptier than it was supposed to be. Empty like that mockingly tidy bed in the corner; the bed that used to have band tees and dog hair all over it. As James tried to blink away the tears in his eyes, Remus got up from his bed and hesitatingly made his way to the empty, tidy bed, sobbing as he got under the covers. He wanted nothing more than to comfort his friend, tell him he was going to be okay. But the truth was, he couldn’t find the words. And he couldn’t make any promises, because it didn’t feel like any of them would be okay. All he could do was close his eyes, and hope to see Sirius in his dreams. 

\--

“Merlin’s beard, Prongs, are you trying to make us miss the train? Because if so, you better have a brilliant plan to get us to Hogwarts so I can see Moony again because it’s been-“

“Months, yes I know,” James muttered in response, half-asleep, before making the joyful realization that it was Sirius who had woken him up by rushing into his bedroom at this ungodly hour.

“Pads! You’re… okay?” he asked, practically throwing himself out of bed to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad. Your mum fixed me right up!”

“Are you sure you want to go to Hogwarts already?” James doted, inspecting the healed cuts on his friend’s arms before pulling him into a hug.

“Calm down, Prongs. I’m fine! Now get your arse in the shower before we miss our train!” Sirius grinned and pushed his friend into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 

As the two friends made their way through the Hogwarts Express a few hours later, a pair of familiar grey eyes glued themselves to the boys. At first, James was sure he saw them light up, before the collected mask of Regulus Black returned as he cut them off in the corridor.

“You’re alive,” the younger of the two brothers stated, coldly.

“Reggie, thank Merlin,” Sirius sighed in relief, reaching out to his brother who instinctively took a step back.

“So, mum finally blasted you off the family tree, I hope you’re happy.” 

“Reggie, are you alright?” Sirius asked, eyebrows furrowed, more concerned about his brother than he ever had been about that tree.

“That’s none of your concern anymore, now is it?” 

“Regulus I-“

“Save it, I can see you’ve got one brother too many on your hands.” The younger boy left with that, his brother staring after him with a devastated look in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Pads. He’ll come ‘round,” James reassured as he threw his arm over his friend’s shoulder and led him through the corridor to the compartment their friends occupied.

“He better-,” Sirius murmured in response, but was cut off as soon as they entered the compartment.

“What happened? You look like shite, are you okay?!” Remus was rapidly on his feet, pushing Sirius’ hair out of his face and inspecting his bruises.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it? You’re beaten half to death, I swear I’m gonna-“

“You’re not going anywhere _near_ that house, Moony. It’s over now. I’m never going back.”

“About bloody time,” Remus muttered in response, locking eyes with his battered boyfriend before kissing him gently.

“Okaaay, that’s enough you two, there are other people in this very small compartment,” James coughed as he took his seat.

“Thank you!” exclaimed Peter, as the pair broke apart.

“As if you wouldn’t snog Evans senseless right now if she’d have you,” Sirius teased, taking a seat next to his boyfriend.

“That’s… different. Evans isn’t your best friend,” James defended, crossing his arms over his chest.

“She’s mine,” Remus remarked, instantly earning an arm-punch from Sirius. “Rude!”

“You’re my boyfriend, Pads, don’t be greedy.”

“Fine,” Sirius muttered, leaning his head on Remus’ shoulder, sighing with content. 

“Still rude,” Peter insisted.

As the four boys went to bed that later that night in their loud, messy dorm, it felt like home. They were planning pranks on their first night back, drinking fire whiskey that James had snuck into his trunk weeks ago and laughing at anything and everything. But as the room settled down, and his friends fell asleep, reality struck James. He had dreamt the same thing twice now, remembering every bit of it, and chances were he’d be right back there as soon as he fell asleep. Chances were, he’d wake up to a reality in which Sirius Black had died. And that wasn’t even the issue. The issue was, he didn’t know what was real and what was a dream.


End file.
